There Are More Ways Of Killing A

I Go At What I Have To Do As If There Were Nothing Else In The World For Me To Do.

Every Winter, When The Great Sun Has Turned His Face Away, The Earth Goes Down Into A Vale Of Grief, And Fasts, And Weeps, And Shrouds Herself In Sables, Leaving Her Wedding-garlands To Decay- Then Leaps In Spring To His Returning Kisses.

He Was Not Only, I Soon Discovered, A Water Drinker, But A Strict Vegetarian, To Which, Perhaps, He Owed A Great Deal Of The Almost Preternatural Clearness, Volubility, And Sensitiveness Of Mind.

In The Light Of Fuller Day, Of Purer Science, Holier Laws.

And How High Is Christ's Cross? As High As The Highest Heaven, And The Throne Of God, And The Bosom Of The Father That Bosom Out Of Which Forever Proceed All Created Things. Ay, As High As The Highest Heaven! For If You Will Receive It When Christ Hung Upon The Cross, Heaven Came Down On Earth, And Earth Ascended Into Heaven.